You are inflicted with a toe-curling fear of Coastal Commission mixers, single malt scotch and Tea Party politics. Also characterized by a marked aversion to centers for the performing arts and beer pong tournaments played aboard Gulf Stream jets. The thought of fishing for salmon at elite Alaska resorts makes you tremble. You are forced to take Xanax whenever you’re in the vicinity of 5th and E streets.
Shopping-cart-pushing robots scare the living daylights out of you. Your nightmares are populated with rednecks hoisting cases of Busch Light onto black conveyor belts. Shelves lined with WIC-discounted breakfast cereals frighten you, and the very sight of bulk food bins has been known to make you wet your pants a little. Your therapist is on speed dial in case you’re ever required to bag your own groceries.
Sufferers of this malady are classified as having an intense fear of glass water pipes and jam bands. Victims are also characterized by their heightened aversion to purchasing luxury items at Costco with wads of $100 bills. Jacked-up, dual-wheeled Dodge diesels, pit bulls, surveillance cameras and shopping sprees at local hemp boutiques are to be avoided at all costs.
You are medically diagnosed with an all-consuming fear of witty, progressive blogs published by anonymous lesbian witches. Bow ties, Baykeeper ass-kissing and feel-good stories about Larry Glass make you shudder with anxiety.
Your personnel file at work contains a note from your doctor that excuses you from being within 100 yards of “any large, flat building surface along the Eureka Highway 101 corridor.” The last time you attended Arts! Alive, the site of a fire- breathing kinetic sculpture put you in a white vest on a 5150 hold at Sempervirens. You have restraining orders against every member of the Rural Burl Mural Bureau.